


Exposed Crushes

by jaydick_love



Category: DCU
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4280451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydick_love/pseuds/jaydick_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick tugged Jason closer to him, melding their lips back together. Jason allowed it, his rough hands finding their way into Dick’s thick hair. He didn’t know how long they kissed, but it didn’t matter because the kiss felt so right, so good. Like Dick was slowly filling up that gaping hole in his chest little by little, fusing the sore ends together. He felt like he was being pulled off his island of isolation, pulled into Dick’s warm embrace. He wanted that more than anything.</p><p>“That kiss means you’re mine.” Dick proclaimed happily. Jason didn’t say anything back, just took a hold of Dick’s IV free hand, which was answer enough for the acrobat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exposed Crushes

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could Nightwing let himself slip up so horribly? He should have just stayed in that night and not go out when he clearly wasn’t one hundred percent. Hell, he wasn’t even seventy five percent okay. This stupid virus was going to be the death of him.

While on patrol, the acrobatic vigilante had been near the docks when a shipment of drugs came. There were only four guards and their transpo wasn’t there yet. It was a good opening. Would have been even better if Dick wasn’t sick. So he had been slower than usual, his flips not so graceful. It was his lungs that deceived him though; he went to knock out a goon. A nasty cough, a brief moment where Dick let his guard down for just a bit too long. The last goon ended up lighting him up with a round of bullets from his automatic.

Thanks to the kevlar suit, Dick didn’t die. But that didn’t mean the bullets didn’t injure him. His kevlar wasn’t as thick as Batman’s, and all those bullets broke bones like his ribs and fractured his ulna. They bruised him shamelessly, opened up half healed gashes that became deeper and wept blood. What sent him toppling off the docks and into the murky, cold waters was when the bullets hit the same spot in his side multiple times. The kevlar broke; a bullet digging within Dick’s left side, sending him into the nasty waters of Bludhaven’s docks.

The water was freezing cold, jolting Dick into awareness. There was no way he could hold his breath for long with broken ribs that demanded air. A downfall to no longer having his utility belt: no extra masks. If Nightwing surfaced, the goon would probably shoot off his skull. Looks like he’d have to be able to hold his breath long enough to make it to a different boarding dock where men weren’t waiting to put bullets through him.

Ignoring the pain searing through his body, Dick swam with his good arm and desperately tried to hold his breath. It felt like forever before he finally saw a different dock, and by then, he was cold, exhausted, and leaking more than enough blood. Finally, he came near enough to the dock to surface. He came up gasping in the sweet oxygen, blood leaking out the corner of his lips, his good arm struggling to pull up all his weight onto the deck.

“Hey, there he is!” a goon shouted.

Aw, hell.

Five seconds later, bullets were flying at Dick, and he hurriedly heaved himself onto the deck and made a run for cover. A ricochet hit his calf, making him stumble and nearly face plant. Cursing the virus and the goons, he ran behind some buildings. By now, he was huffing and puffing for breath, an alarming amount of blood pooling out of his side. His vision was blurring, black dots dancing into his line of sight. It was the tell tale sign of blacking out.

He had gotten one hell of a beating.

Fumbling to think through the pain and cold, Dick searched his mind for anyone he knew was in Bludhaven. Tim had left just yesterday, damn it. All the other Bats were in Gotham.

Except for the outlaw.

Of course Jason would pop into his mind just before he blacked out. The Red Hood always did, but today, he couldn’t help the flood of bittersweet memories and wishes fill his thoughts.

If Nightwing didn’t get help soon, he’d bleed out. If that were the case, he’d want his last thoughts to be about Jason and all the things he wished he could tell him that he was too afraid to say out loud.

Tapping the com in his ear as his legs buckled and he collapsed in a dirty alley, Dick chattered out, “Hood…Need… Help.” A bloody cough. “In the… Do-dock’s alleys…” With that, he passed out, hoping that Jason would listen.

 

The Red Hood had been in two cities in the past week. First, Gotham. Second, Central City. And third, Bludhaven. He should have known the child trafficking originated from Gotham’s sister city, but those traffickers were damn sneaky. He had been searching a warehouse the traffickers had used to hold the children, which was now empty. They had moved somewhere. Again. Judging from the rumpled state of the warehouse, he had just missed them. They could be anywhere now. Central City, Metropolis… He was about to call it quits for the night and tucker out, and just as he was revving up his beloved motorcycle to head home, in came an unsuspecting call from Nightwing.

“Hood…Need… Help.” Cough. “In the… Do-dock’s alleys…”

What the hell did that idiot do now that he would call the antihero of all people? Nonetheless, the damsel needed some saving. With some obnoxious tire squeals and smoke, Jason sped towards the docks where Dick said he was. There, he slowed down and began searching the alleys for the acrobat. After a few minutes, he found the vigilante lying in a pool of his own blood, crumpled up on the ground. Putting the kickstand down, he rushed over to his brother, feeling for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. And why was he so hot and feverish despite how cold and damp his suit was? There was only one explanation for that: he was sick and that was what got him a beaten up.

“You damn moron.” Jason muttered. Nonetheless, he scooped up Dick and placed him on the front of his motorcycle and steered one handed back to his safe house. There, he laid Dick out on the mattress on the floor before going to retrieve his medical supplies. Taking off his hood and domino mask, he knelt beside the elder. He stripped off what Dick was wearing; it would only make him sicker if he kept it on. Ignoring his junk and impressive body, Jason inspected his wounds. Some of them were treatable, like the broken ribs and gashes. But the bullet wound and broken arm? Not so much. The bullet had bit into his side deeply, with no exit wound. Jason had medical training, but he was no doctor or surgeon. With how deeply the bullet got into Dick, it might have hit an internal organ. On top of it, he was sick. Dick needed someone who was more experienced with these kind of things.

Jason couldn’t exactly drop off Dick at the hospital. He wasn’t equipped to take care of him. Begrudgingly, his only option was the Manor. With his crazy driving, Jason could get there in about twenty minutes. Alfred would be able to fix up the Golden Boy. But going there meant Bruce. Jason really didn’t feel like facing Daddy Bats tonight, but it was either that or a dead vigilante.

“I fucking hate you, Dickface.” Jason growled as he made a temporary splint for Dick’s arm. “You owe me. Can’t believe I have to take you to the Manor.” He wrapped up the bleeding bullet wound, which would bleed through the bandages quickly. So he grabbed a ratty towel for when that happened, because he was so not going to stain the car seats, threw some clothes onto the vigilante, then hauled his heavy ass out the door into Jason’s sports car.

He broke most traffic laws as he sped towards Gotham, and halfway through, Dick bled through the bandages. Good thing Jason brought that towel. He pressed it to Dick’s side, forcing him to drive one handed as he applied pressure.

Within twenty minutes, Jason skidded the car to a stop at the gates of the Manor. Seeing an opportunity to annoy Bruce, he shot the lock open and plowed through the gates and drove around to the back door where no civilians would see him. He grabbed Dick once more, and stormed to the door. Before he could knock, Alfred opened the door, the butler’s impeccable cool demeanor in place.

“Hey Alfie.”

The butler blinked at the scene in front of him: Jason actually at the Manor, holding a passed out and bloody Dick Grayson.

In his British accent that made the moment a bit funny to Jason, Alfred said, “Oh my.”

“-god, Becky look at her butt.” Jason finished humorlessly as he came into the Manor. It was empty inside. The other bats must be out still or in the Cave.

Alfred raised an amused eyebrow at that. “What happened to Master Dick?” the old man led Jason down towards the Cave, where all the medical stuff must be. All that crap always moved around and never stayed in one place with all the injuries taken. Guess Jason should have used the entrance to the Cave, but then he wouldn’t have been able to shoot Bruce’s gate.

“Dunno. He called me to come help him, and I find him passed out cold in an alley.”

“Well, let us get to work.”

They entered the Cave, which was thankfully, empty at the moment. Alfred sensed his relief. “The others won’t be back for a couple hours or so.”

Jason stretched Dick out onto a cot as Alfred washed his hands and snapped on a pair of gloves.

“Here,” Alfred said, handing Jason a pair of gloves.

“What are these for?”

“You’re helping me. Now don’t just stand there, wash your hands first.”

He shot a glare at Dick. “Man, you really owe me.”

It took nearly two hours to patch up Nightwing. Alfred stopped the bleeding with some coagulants, put in more stitches Jason didn’t bother to count, wrapped up his ribs and put a cast on his broken arm. Lastly, the butler pumped Dick full of drugs and morphine. There wasn’t much that could be done for the virus he had, it would just have to run its course.

Jason stayed besides Dick as he slept. For some odd reason, the antihero felt compelled to wait until Dick woke up. He sat there, feet propped up on a chair as the elder slept. Even when the other Bats came back to the Cave, he stayed there. Bruce basically interrogated Jason about what happened to Dick, which he couldn’t really give any answers since he hadn’t been there when Dick did whatever stupid things he did. Bruce ended up thinking that Jason was the one who shot his Golden Boy. Whatever. He could think what he wanted.

After a few hours, when it was clear Dick wasn’t waking up anytime soon and Jason wasn’t leaving, the antihero helped Alfred move Dick into his old room in the Manor. The bed there was more comfortable, and his room offered some privacy and shelter for Jason from the questioning Bats.

It was nearly lunch time when Dick finally woke up, blinking his cobalt eyes dazedly. He took in where he was with squinted eyes, not quite sure he was really at the Manor.

“Sleeping Beauty awakens. Finally. I thought I’d have to get a prince to kiss you awake.” Jason said teasingly.

Dick looked at him, not quite believing that he was here either. “Jason?”

“The one and only.”

Fuzzily, the elder remembered what happened. Getting injured, falling into the waters and crawling into an alley, calling Red Hood for help. “You came and got me.”

“What gave me away?”

Dick attempted to sit up, which was a mistake. Pain shot though his side and ribs. With a groan, he eased back down on the bed. “So. What’s the verdict?”

Jason tapped his fingers as he listed off the injuries. “Broken ulna, two broken ribs, lots of stitches, you were shot in the side, and you’re still sick.”

“Lovely.” Dick muttered. “I’ll be out of commission for a while. Bludhaven will need a temporary protector.” Peeking through his long lashes at Jason, he put on his best pleading face. “Hey, you were already in Bludhaven. Why don’t you stay until I’m up and running again?”

Jason shot him a disbelieving look. “I have new leads I need to follow outside of Bludhaven.” That wasn’t one hundred percent true. He didn’t know where the traffickers went yet but he was sure he could find some leads.

“Oh. I guess I could ask someone else.” Dick muttered, somewhat disappointed.

“If I were you, I’d worry about healing first.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine. Not the first time I’ve been shot.”

“Sadly, that’s true for all of us.”

Dick sighed. “Yeah. It is.” The usually bubbly acrobat turned serious, face clouding over with emotion. “You know, I didn’t think you’d come for a while.”

“It’s great to know you have so much faith in me.”

“I thought that I might die or something.” Dick murmured.

“Uh-huh. Right.” Jason of all people didn’t need someone telling him that they thought they were going to die.

“You know what I was thinking of?”

“How much of an idiot you are for going out while being sick?”

A dry chuckle. “Yes. And also about a certain someone.”

“Let me guess. A Kardashian?”

“No. I was thinking about…” Dick twiddled with his thumbs, trying to finally say what he has been thinking of for just about forever. It was more wishing and fantasy than actual thinking. It all rushed out, “I was thinking about you.”

“Me?” Jason exclaimed incredulously. “What, thinking I wasn’t going to help you?”

Dick’s voice came out shyly. “No, not that. I was thinking about everything I’ve wanted to tell you.”

“Which is?”

A blush colored Dick’s cheeks. He struggled to not look down at Jason’s boots. “I wanted to tell you I have feelings for you.”

The other man blinked stupidly for a moment. “Wait. What?”

“I like you. A lot. Your face was the one I saw before I passed out.” He wouldn’t voice it, but lying there cold and alone and bleeding out last night, he wondered if that was how Jason felt like before Joker blew him up. Helpless. Alone. Cold. Thankfully, Red Hood didn’t let Dick down.

“Oh.” All Jason could do was sit there and let it sink in for a moment. Then it hit him. Dick Grayson liked him. Jason wasn’t completely undesirable, he was wanted. What struck him the most was the light, fluttery feeling in his chest. Dick liked him. Back in the days as Robin, Jason had a huge crush on the elder. Dick had always just seemed so strong and attractive. The feelings the antihero had for Dick never changed, not even when he came back from the dead. He’s always had a thing for Grayson no matter how hard he shoved it down and ignored it.

Dick began to ramble nervously, taking the silence as a negative reaction. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Look, can we forget I said anything? I don’t want things between us to be awkward or-”

He didn’t get to finish what he was saying because all of a sudden, Jason’s lips were silencing his. He melted into the kiss like pudding. The younger man tasted faintly of cigarettes and coffee, which was oddly a nice combination that Dick wanted more of. After a few long moments, Jason pulled away from the kiss, but kept the distance between them to a minimum, their foreheads nearly touching.

“I take that as ‘I like you too’?” Dick said a bit breathlessly, eyes wide with pleasure and hope. Jason’s expression was bemused and a bit confused, but relatively hopeful also.

“Yep.”

“Come here.”Dick tugged Jason closer to him, melding their lips back together. Jason allowed it, his rough hands finding their way into Dick’s thick hair. He didn’t know how long they kissed, but it didn’t matter because the kiss felt so right, so good. Like Dick was slowly filling up that gaping hole in his chest little by little, fusing the sore ends together. He felt like he was being pulled off his island of isolation, pulled into Dick’s warm embrace. He wanted that more than anything.

“That kiss means you’re mine.” Dick proclaimed happily. Jason didn’t say anything back, just took a hold of Dick’s IV free hand, which was answer enough for the acrobat.


End file.
